The Parent Trap
by FutureNovelist887
Summary: Percy and Annabeth broke up not long after the birth of their twin daughters, Periwinkle and Annaliese, deciding that Percy will keep Annaliese and Annabeth Periwinkle. The two promise to send pictures, ceasing all other contact so as not to create more fighting. But, twelve years later, the girls have questions, and they're determined to get an answer.
1. Prologue

**_Prologue _**

"That's it, Percy Jackson." Annabeth chucked a hair dryer at his head, to which he ducked, the glass narrowly missing his face.

"Annabeth!"

"I won't hear it, Percy!" She slammed her suit case on the bed, throwing in clothes at random, not caring what came and what didn't.

He snatched her wrist, which she yanked away forcefully. "Annabeth, you're being ridic - "

"Don't tell me I'm being ridiculous, Percy!" she pointed her finger at his chest like a gun. "For years I've put up with this, but you've finally crossed the line."

She went back to angrily assaulting her clothing items, and he stood, fuming, unsure what to say to the girl he loved. After a moment, he spoke. "Annabeth..." His eyes traced to the matching bassinets. "What about...?"

"We'll...we'll...I don't know, okay?" She bit her lip, fingering the band around her finger. "I just can't take it anymore." She sniffled, rubbing her eyes. "I'll take Periwinkle with me."

"And I get Annaliese."

"Yeah." She breathed slowly. "Yeah. Yeah. Okay. That'll work." She turned to face him, realizing only then he towered over her. He tried to take her hand, to feel her one more time.

"Please don't do this," he whispered. "I know I screwed up, okay? And I know that sometimes I just - I'm so insufferable," he grinned. "You taught me that word."

"I love you, Percy." The statement lacked a passion he desired, and one she wished she could feel again. "I just can't anymore. I can't keep on with the fighting, with the abuse I give you and the abuse you give me. It's wearing us down. We weren't meant to be like that, Percy."

"I know, Wise Girl," he pushed back a curl. "I know."

He leaned to kiss her, but stopped. His eyes increased in size as he looked to the small sphere in his hand.

"I'm sorry, Percy." She squeezed out from under him, walking over to the bassinets. She picked up Annaliese, her nose burning. "I love you, sweetheart. And I promise I always will, okay? Daddy will take good care of you." Tears trickled down her cheeks. She sucked them in, kissing her daughter's temple a final time before placing her back in the cradle.

Anger fueled behind her grey eyes. She stomped over to Percy, once again aiming her cocked-finger-gun. "I mean it, Perseus Jackson. If you hurt my child - "

He took her hand, now ringless. "I won't."

"This is for the better," she spoke as if telling herself. "This will end the fighting. I'm so tired of fighting, Percy." She sighed. "We don't have to do this. We can take it to court and get visitations on each time for each of us - "

"No." he fingered her ring before lifting it to the mantle. "I don't want to fight anymore, Annabeth. I'll send you pictures." He raised his head. "But I'm done, too."

Her face took on a look of shock. Shouldn't he be begging her to stay? Sweep her off her feet? Kiss her? Forgive her? _Fight _for her?

"So this is it, then?" her tone lost all hatred. She closed the suitcase and went to getting together Periwinkle's things.

"If it's what you want, Annabeth." He, in likeness, picked up Periwinkle. He breathed in her fresh scent, the smell of a million oceans, just like him. Her bright green eyes looked upon him oddly, as if to say, _Who are you? Why are you still here? _

His lips pressed into her cheek. "I love you, Perri."

Annabeth slammed her carry on bag. "Perri?"

"Short for Periwinkle."

Her eyebrows raised. "See? This is what I mean! You make decisions without asking me!"

"Take it easy. I was just - "

"Just doing what you do."

"Ugh." He shook his head, placing his daughter back in her crib. "Now you're _really _being ridiculous." He should have stopped himself. "Are you PMSing?"

She grabbed the nearest thing: their wedding photo, ripping the frame and stripping the picture in half. "Take _that _as PMS." She snatched Periwinkle from her crib, gave a lasting look to Annaliese, and disappeared from his view.

He wouldn't admit it, but Percy Jackson fell upon his king sized bed, wedding ring in hand, and cried.

And, in her cab, Annabeth Chase did the same.

* * *

_Twelve Years Later_

_Los Angeles, California._

"Annaliese! Dinner!"

I sighed, rolling over on my stomach, one leg dangling down from the tree branch. _She'll never learn, kid. _Blackjack whinnied above me, his once black wings now a dim gray.

"Tell me about it." Don't get me wrong. It's not that I didn't like Alice - she was sweet, beautiful, but young enough to be my older sister. I didn't know what Dad was thinking, dating her. I only hoped it didn't move forward.

_He'll see it one day, kid. And look on the brightside. You have Camp tomorrow. _

I couldn't help but smile. "Yeah. Camp." It was my first summer going away to Camp without Dad - I got to hang out in the cabin all by myself, could eat junk food, throw my clothes in the floor. Dad even told me Uncle Tyson would be there, which was great. I loved the guy, and Aunt Ella, too. It was fun to sit and listen to Aunt Ella tell her stories, a countless amount of tales she'd read and seen. They were my favorite bed time stories, once upon a time.

Alice's shrill tone cut my from my memories. "Annaliese! _Now_!"

"No," I jumped from the branch, rolling easily on the ground. Leaves fell on my face and Blackjack landed beside me. His muzzle nudged me. _C'mon, kid. Don't make the pretty lady mad. _

I ground, standing, swiping the leaves off. "Shut up, Grayjack. Get back to the stables where you belong."

Blackjack made a face I'm sure was a glare, before nodding and shooting off. _I'll expect some sugar cubes for that insult, Mini-Boss. _

I snorted. "Sure thing, Blackjack." I skipped inside the house, kicking a rock to the side on the patio.

"Annaliese, take those darn hands out of your pockets and get washed up!" Alice yanked on my hands, ushering me towards the sink. I snarled at her, shoving aside.

"I can wash my hands by myself, Alice."

"I'm not Alice to you yet, Annaliese."

"Alright then, _Ms. Newman_, I'm not Annaliese to you yet."

Our glares matched each other. Hers broke me down. "_Wash. Your. Hands._" She growled, throwing my wrists into the pouring sink.

She went back to cooking. I stuck my tongue out. "Wash your hands," I mocked in a girly voice much too high pitched to be hers. "You was your hands you snarly little - "

"Ah! Baby!" Alice giggled, tossing aside her food and running to meet my father in the doorway. He laughed, wrapping his arm around his waist as Alice kissed him passionately. I gagged.

"Yuck. Get a room."

Alice pulled away, and, I'll be honest, if looks could kill, I would have been on the fast track six feet under.

Before Alice and I started a war in the kitchen, Dad pulled away and walked over to me, rubbing my hair out of place. "How's my favorite kid?"

"Alive and kickin', as always." Dad nudged me.

"Did you have a good day at work, honey?"

Dad shrugged. "Made more money, right?" He draped his arm across my shoulders, hugging me and kissing my forehead.

"Daaaad." I pretened I was disgusted.

I never loved anything more.

"Oh, Annaliese, be nice to your father."

"It was a joke, Alice."

"Didn't sound like much of a joke. And it's _Ms. Newman,_ Annaliese."

"Yes, ma'am. I understand, _Alice._ And, uh, it's Allie."

Her jaw clinched. "You little - "

"So, what's for dinner?" Dad elbowed me sharply, a side-effect from diffusing the bomb that was me and his girlfriend. I rubbed my shoulder gruffly, turning absent mindedly in my chair. ADHD.

Alice's smile slowly returned as she revealed what she called her "masterpiece" (aka, every other meal): the one thing I couldn't stand. "Your favorite, babe!" She slid him his plate. "Breakfast for dinner!"

"Disgusting," I muttered, picking at the pancake. She knew I hated breakfast foods.

As Alice crossed the rooms to wash her hands for the fifteenth time, Dad brought me in close. "Be good for dinner and tonight we'll rent a movie."

I wanted to resist. Honestly, I did. But the thoughts of a movie...

"PG-13 and over?" I whispered.

His eyes flashed for a moment, as if he wanted to warn me that my mother wouldn't like that. But I didn't know my mother. "PG-13 or over," he agreed, and so, bracing up, I put on a smile, forced myself through a couple bites of pancakes, and even complimented _Ms. Newman _on her shirt choice that day.

"Well thank you, Annaliese," she grinned falsely, taking another bite and leaning into my father.

I angrily stabbed a slice of bacon, pretending her head was under the fork.

* * *

_Twelve Years and One Day Later_

_Surrey, England (forty miles outside London)_

I was up before she called me. "Perri!"

I rushed from my room, suitcase in tow. "Present and accounted for!"

She suppressed a smile, handing me a pancake only Mum could make (...seriously. She could only make pancakes.) As a second thought, I walked over and placed three strips of bacon into the microwave.

"Do you have everything?" She ran through the checklist again, and I listened, I swear I did. It's just that Mum's lists got into the nitty-gritty of things - things I barely even noticed, let alone cared about.

"Sure, sure, yes, Mum." I stopped the microwave a second before it burst, swallowing a strip in three seconds flat. Mum instinctively reached for a piece. I hid it and hissed.

Her face was priceless as she sighed, rolling my boarding pass in her hand. "Well, I guess I can't let you go the Camp then..." she dangled the pass of the trash can.

"No, wait," my inherently British accent rolled off my tongue (after twelve years of nothing but _crumpets, crumpets, hot tea, Sherlock! _it's all you can say). "Oh, c'mon Mum! Don't do this to me!"

"It's the bacon or the trip, Periwinkle."

I glared. "Fine," I tossed her a strip, and she caught the small object flawlessly. I giggled as she devoured it in my likeness. "You win."

"As always," she chuckled, ruffling my hair, leaning across the bar.

Her eyes took on the faraway look I called the Vision. In the Vision, Mum imagines someone, some_thing_, and I no longer exist. It's like I'm some kind of looking glass to her, a portal to another world.

"Who's the Vision of this time, Mum?"

She didn't answer. Her grey eyes glazed over, and a sultry sound like leaking syrup spilled from her lips. "I love you, Percy..."

"Percy?" my voice sounded shrill. Her ears perked and she looked up, eyes wide as saucers.

"Perri," she corrected. "I meant Perri. Slip of the tongue." She coughed awkwardly, rubbing her hand where I knew her wedding ring used to reside. "I'll, uh...I'll go make sure everything's in tip-top shape, okay? Get your carry on and...yeah." I watched her limp away, her ankle more and more trouble nowadays. She'd told me of the time she and some old boyfriend had fallen into the pits of Tartarus, how Arachne, Grandma's greatest enemy, had pulled them down there. Her skin grew white when she told me the nicknamed Tales from Tartarus (because, for some odd reason, I have to make a joke out of everything). Her eyes went dark, and often she shook.

Once, when I was three, she recounted "The Boss Battle," between her, the Mysterious Green Eyed Boyfriend, and their biggest enemy - Kronos. As she talked, she seemed to grow farther and farther away until she was reliving the battle in my room. Her voice rang out, "Noooo!" and she began kicking and screaming, having one of the largest anxiety attacks I'd ever seen. Her hands flung around my throat and she started strangling me. "No! I won't let you take him from me!"

It was by some miracle that our butler and Mum's assistant, Malcolm, ran in and tore her away from me. The bruises sat on my neck for weeks. Mum never did look at me the same again.

I couldn't very well look at her, either.

Part of me wondered who the Mysterious Green Eyed Boyfriend was. Did I know him? I distinctly remember someone's smiling face, with thick black hair that hung slightly in his dimly lit eyes. In this vision he seems lost, confused, and very, very scared. Surely the Green Eyed Boyfriend wasn't my...

I shook my head. Malcolm made his rounds, stopping in the kitchen. "How goes it, mini-tike?" He ruffled my hair like everyone seemed to do, sitting beside me. I shrugged, leaning into him. "I'm heading to Camp today."

"No kidding," he held me at arm's length. "That's great, Pear!"

"Yeah, great for you guys. I'm just not so sure..." I couldn't get answers from Mum, that I knew.

So maybe Malcolm would spill.

"Malcolm?" I asked under my breath.

"Yeah, Pear?" he whispered back.

"Did you know my dad?"

The world stood still. Malcolm's mouth opened and closed, opened and closed. His eyes went wide ans came back down, wide and back down, and his skin grew sweaty all in a single instant.

Finally he choked out, "Wha-what do y'mean, Pear?"

"Never mind," like the ball of hormonal rage I was, I stood angrily and paced back to my room, leaving behind a plate full of a strip and a half of bacon and a pancake.

He didn't think I heard him, but he said, "I'm sorry."

* * *

**What's this? Hannah lives? She writes ACTUAL stories? Whaaa?**

**But yes, I have returned! For now, at least. This originally started with an idea of Percy and Annabeth breaking up and Annabeth having a child Hermes and Percy with Aphrodite, when I had a revelation - why not Parent Trap it up? **

**I'm going to give it a shot, and I hope I can give you all a story worth reading. **

**Peace, Love and God Bless,**

**Hannah**


	2. Welcome to Camp Half Blood Prt One

**_Part One:_**

**_Welcome to Camp Half Blood_**

_London Terminal_

_Perri_

"There's my flight," I said pensively, adjusting my carry on bag and rolling my shoulder blade, fingers loosening and tightening over the handle of my suitcase.

Mum gave a tip-lipped smile. "You're going to have fun. Camp's a great place!"

I forced out a laugh. "I know. You've told me."

"And you know Chiron, which pretty much makes you the top-dog, if you know what I mean."

My brows furrowed. "I don't understand American humor."

Mum's look read: S_eriously?_

My lips convulsed as I tried not to laugh, but my smirk gave me away. She sneered, playfully giving me a noogie before wrapping her arms tight around me. "It's all going to be okay, Perri. Mark my words."

It felt useless to say I know, so I just stood there, hugging my mother, torn between leaving and staying. Then again, she'd already deposited the flight ticket, to and from. I didn't need to waste our money.

"Last call, flight 794, Long Island."

I gave her a final squeeze. "I'd better go." I sighed triumphantly, cleared my throat, and marched forward, like the good little strong soldier my mum had raised me to be. I didn't need a man.

I didn't need anyone.

"IM me when you get there!" she called at last, as if just realizing I wasn't in her arms anymore. That I'd grown up. "I love you!" I turned around and gave her my largest fake-looks-real smile, handing the woman my passport. She nodded my way along, and I saluted my mother.

"Godspeed!" I hollered, making the woman sneer and people stare. I nodded, my work done.

"Godspeed!" she yelled back, waving. She watched me until I went down the L shaped hallway and out to my plane.

I wish that I had hugged her again. Smelled her hair. Told her I loved her.

I'd come to regret it.

* * *

_LAX_

_Allie_

"You have everything?" Dad patted his pants pocket, as if miraculously finding his keys was what I was missing. I nodded my agreement.

"I think so. Do _you _have everything?"

Dad's suitcase was overstuffed beside him, as he had a business trip in Missouri around the time of Camp.

"Don't forget to contact Chiron as soon as you get there. And we Jacksons have always had a knack of almost getting turned into dolphins by Mr. D, so don't think much about it when he threatens to. And he forgets everybody's name, so you'll probably come out as Alyssa Johnson or something like that."

"Okay, Dad."

"On Friday you'll have Capture the Flag. If you think the armor's not on right, please get someone to help, like Michael or somebody else. Good armor is the key to winning."

"Okay, Dad." My cheeks blushed a little at Michael. I told myself it was the heat from all the scattering bodies in the room.

"And never, I mean _never _mess with the Ares kids. Michael's the only exception, but I grew up with his mom. Might be a pretty lady now, but if you had seen Clarisse back in the day - "

"Okay, Dad!" I insisted, smiling as I grabbed his wrist to get him to shut up. "I've got it. No drinking anything the Stolls' boys give me. No messing with Mr. D. I can only talk to Tyson, Aunt Ella, Uncle Grover, Juniper, Michael, Chiron, Mr. D and Francis. No staying up past my bedtime because the last thing I want on my first trip to Camp alone is to be eaten by Harpies. Did that about cover it?" I smirked.

Dad scratched the back of his head. "Guess I've been pounding the rules, huh?"

I stood on my tiptoes as they called my flight, pecking his cheek. "I'll be I'll be fine. I'm the daughter of the son of the sea god for God's sake!"

"So there is a little you in me after all," he commented.

"I'm you made over," I said, turning to my suitcase to get everything in order before I headed off.

_So is Perri. _

I wasn't sure if he said it, or if I'd imagined it, or what. But the thought remained. _So is Perri. _I considered asking Dad, and had started to, when they called the last call. I shook my head, kissing his cheek one more time.

"I'll be fine. I'll IM as soon as I arrive, go talk to Chiron, and get the cabin ready in case you "miraculously" stop by." I glared. He raised his hands in defeat.

"I told you, first time Campers always go alone. I can't watch you forever, pal," he ruffled my hair. "Though I wish I could," he mumbled, fingering the scar hidden under my hairline.

I winced. Even after nine years, it was sensitive. His hand recoiled immediately, but instead of apologizing, he knelt and gave me a kiss on the forehead. "I love you, kiddo," he smiled.

I grinned. "I love you, too." He gave me a final squeeze and I turned, rejoining the line of human forms as they all handed in last-minute passes. I turned and waved. He waved back, starting to leave for his own flight.

Out of need, I hollered, "I'll be seeing you!" gaining the unwanted attention of all those around me. I gulped, fear racing through my veins.

He cupped his hand over his mouth. "I'll be seeing you!" it bounced off the ceiling and the walls, a harmonious melody that I managed to keep humming, even as I shakily handed the lady my pass and boarded the plan.

I never was good with humans.

* * *

"ALLIE!"

"MICHAEL!" my best friend threw me to the ground, tangling our bodies as he yelled, "HOLY ZEUS I'M SO GLAD YOU'RE BACK MY PARENTS HAVE TRIED TO KILL ME DON'T YOU DARE LEAVE AGAIN ANNALIESE ATHENA JACKSON DO YOU HEAR ME?"

I snorted, shoving him off, only then realizing someone else under me. I began to turn to apologize, only to have Michael gruffly lift me from the pile of suitcases and mutter, "We're sorry," to the person, dragging me off. "Bloody pricks," they muttered behind us, and I rolled my eyes, completely engrossed in all Michael was ranting to me - his pregnant mother and how she was trying to kill him, Francis' latest attempts to escape Uncle G's watchful eye (haha), usual camp shenanigans from the Stolls' boys.

At the end, out of breath and at the end of our journey to Cabin Three, he smiled at me. "How ya doin', Allie?" he asked, leaning against the sea stone.

I wanted to say everything I'd been feeling in the past year - how awful I felt, how lonely it was living with a father who only had eyes for a pretentious blonde woman I couldn't stand, how aunt Rachel made the situation even worse - but instead, I gave a rough sigh and put on a brave face. "Better and better every day, Mike." I kicked the door open, smiling with delight at Uncle Tyson in his favorite apron, cleaning the cabin. He dropped his broom when he saw me.

"Niece!" he bellowed. Michael grinned, touching my shoulder.

"I'll catch you later," he sped off. Uncle Tyson bounded towards me, wrapping me in a hug so bone crushing I couldn't breathe.

"Good to see you, too," I muttered. "Ty - crushing - lungs - "

He blushed a little and put me down. "So sorry, niece," he giggled. I waved him off.

"It's okay. Where's Ella?"

"Sick," Uncle Tyson frowned. "She is one sick bird."

I furrowed my eyebrows. "Any idea why?"

Tyson shook his head, clueless as ever, and I muttered about how I'd keep her in my thoughts, beginning to unpack my things. He leaned over my shoulder, watching me intently, his one big brown eye more curious than any time I'd ever seen him. I coughed awkwardly.

"Um, maybe you should go see her. Check up on her, make sure she's doing okay?"

Tyson thought for a moment, and with realization nodded. "Yes. Yes, niece right." he walked for the door, and turning around he waved. "See you soon?"

"At dinner," I promise, biting my inner cheek. He nodded, happy again, and began running across the fields to his quarters. I couldn't help but laugh, placing the photographs I'd brought with me on the bedside table, surrounding with adornments of his old adventures. Out of habit I studied them - his sheild-watch Uncle Tyson had made him, outlining their adventures in the Sea of Monsters. The horn of the Minotaur, other little trinkets from many other adventures. And, finally, the one in the center of it all - a picture of him and a young blonde woman, with tan skin and a bright smile, curly blonde hair cascading over her shoulder as they snapped the pic in a photo booth.

I bit my lip, examining the last of my own photographs. I traced over the face of the woman, finger tips grazing the edges of the frame, and with a defeated sigh I placed it under the picture, looking between her and the girl with dad.

It had to be mom. Had to be.

The conch sounded. One of Chiron's meetings. I touched the photo one last time, threw my duffle under the bed, and jogged out to meet my favorite horse-human breed.

* * *

_Perri _

_Cabin 6_

I dropped the picture of the dark haired man on the table, examining it with jet-lagged eyes. My butt still hurt from where some bullock had shoved me down, only to mutter a sorry and dash away. Weren't hit and runs illegal?

I ran my hand over his face, the dark haired man with green eyes. I shared features with him - the same nose, piercing green eyes, same arrogant attitude his face held - but still...that couldn't be him with my mom in that photo over her bunk. Surely not.

I studied it a moment longer, the Athenians behind me arguing up a storm on the topic of abortion. I'd kept my opinion silent, casually watching as logic fired at logic, head throbbing from keeping up with 'law says this' and 'science says this' and 'well maybe we should just...'.

"God, yes," I cried as the horn sounded. They all cocked an eyebrow, mumbled something about freaking newbies, and continued on outside.

I glanced back.

_Get your head out of the clouds, Perriwinkle, _I rebuked myself. _That can't be him. _

If only I'd known.

* * *

**Um. **

**Yeah. **

**I tried? **

**Sure I did. **

**I'm sorry it's not as good as it could be hunnie bunnies. Life has been running all over me, with everything and it's nothingness and you all know how it goes. But in answer to your many questions, yes. I will be continuing, just not updating regularly as I don't have a completely regular schedule, ever. I'll try to update as soon as I can, okay? **

**Hugs and Kiss Hunnie Bunnies! Peace Out my Vulcan Homies! **

**-Hannah**


	3. Meet Cute

Fitting in has never been my forte.

Sure, back home in secondary I had friends, a handful in the least. None of them were there when it counted, however, and I was often left to my own reckless devices.

Call me old fashioned, but I believe a girl should have those.

I shoved my way into the Athena table, wild shooting eyebrows assaulting me as I took a seat, mumuring something over my food before I began to chow down. "Kid?" Someone nudged me. I looked up, mouth full, swallowing gruffly. "Hmm?"

"You're in the wrong seat, first off," the blonde woman told me, forcing politeness to the service. I grimaced.

"Forgive me, lo - "

"And second off," she scooted me away, taking my place, nearly knocking my tray off the table, "you've got to sacrifice the best of your meal to the gods."

"What?" I stood, incredulous, almost hunched over my meal. "Um, no."

"It's the way you do things, kid." She scrutinized me. "Whose kid are you, anyway? Like, you're obviously not completely Athena."

"Annabeth Chase is my mum," I said shortly, and the world ceased turning.

"Oh no _way_." muttered a guy named Chance. "_The _Annabeth Chase? The greatest demigod alive?"

"Besides Percy Jackson of course," shot another from across the way.

"They're on the same level really," argued a quiet girl munching on carrots, the air of vegan surrounding her. No, wait, she was drinking milk. Just vegetarian, then.

The girl who'd taken my seat snorted. "Please. Annabeth was so much smarter than that..._fish _brain."

"She loved him, y'know?" the quiet girl addressed me, smacking timidly and then saying, "Excuse me."

"I've never heard her mention - "

"I wouldn't be surprised," Chance said as he ripped open a cocktail shrimp. "They went through a big fight that tore 'em apart like two, maybe three years after their marriage and pretty much cut off all contact with each other. I remember that day. It was all over Camp. Been almost what...thirteen years?"

I thought of how the kid must've been there since he was able to crawl, since he was seventeen, eighteen at the most. Not much older than me.

"Whatever the case may be," continued on the Girl Who Will Forever Be Known as the One Who Took My Seat, "why didn't you mention that before, Pipsqueak?"

"Perriwinkle," I corrected softly.

"I know what I said."

"Rude cheese eating surrender monkey," I said, though lowly as to not elicit an emotional response (good God I've been reading too many books. Time to put my mother's collection away again.)

"What?"

"I mean, um," I cleared my throat, "I dunno. It just...didn't seem important."

"You would've gotten better treatment, that's for sure," she took a bite, and for a moment I thought she'd offer me my seat back. When that didn't work out, I muttered, through gritted teeth and a balled fist, "Where's the sacrifice place?" _So I can burn your bones there, _I added.

Chance pointed backwards with a thumb. "Just off the edge of the pivil," he took a sip of his coke, an unlikely drink with those beautiful shrimp. I'd always loved seafood and began to wonder why I'd asked for lame-same pizza, when Chiron, the horse-man I'd seen over hundreds of IM's - Iris Messages, for you new folks - but never in person, stomped on the Pavillion with an encrusted hoof.

"Heroes!" his voice echoed. "Warriors!" Once the chatter had quieted and all eyes turned, Chiron cleared his thoat and continued on. "Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. For all of our newcomers, we give our most humble greetings. Isn't that right, Dioynsus."

Dioynsus barely sniffed over his can of diet coke. "What? Hmm, sure, sure."

Chiron, very nonchalantly rolled his eyes, and I wondered what in the world an Olympian on the high council was doing running a summer camp.

"And for all you hobgobblins who have returned for another root, welcome back. I hope you all enjoy your time. Train well. Fight hard. Schedules will be distributed first thing tomorrow morning, so long as our duty is promptly on time." he glared slightly at a set of triplets, who grinned wickedly, giving a thumbs up.

"We won't be late, Chiron!" encouraged one.

"Fat chance," muttered Chance.

"Who are they?" I whispered.

"Them?" he pointed a limp shrimp caracass at them. "Those are the Stoll's boys. Connor Jr. - we call him CJ - and Trent are brothers. TJ - that's Travis Jr. - is CJ's uncle and his dad's older brother. And, to settle your nerves, they're not tripplets."

I sighed falsely, trying to play it off like I hadn't been worried. "No kidding, huh? And here I thought I'd get a nice - "

"Yeah, yeah, that's great, kid." Chance suddenly grew disinterested, and I glared, flairing my nostrils.

"Fine, then." I began to stomp away, suddenly irritated and not in the mood for food. I'd sacrfice the whole darn plate to the gods.

At least, I _would _have, if my entire platter hadn't have gone splattering all over a blonde girl.

She gave an outraged shriek and my cheeks burned. I couldn't see her face for fear of looking up. "I'm so, so sorry," I apologized. "Wasn't right in my knickers."

"No, no, it's - it's okay." She began wiping pizza sauce off her pink outfit, and I realized in that moment of cleaning off her shoes, that everyone was staring at us.

"What?" we said in unison, tones nearly matching.

"Are they twins?" muttered Chance.

"Impossible!" cried another to the left.

"Twins?" the girl's and my voice rose an octave, and we looked to each other.

I swear it was like looking into a mirror - body and face shape wise, I mean. Her hair was longer than mine, a creamy, wispy blonde like my mother's, with a light drizzling of freckles. We were roughly the same height, same skin tone, though hers _was _a little darker, I'd guessed from the sun England never saw.

"Oh, my God." our unanimous speakings were starting to get weird, but I couldn't stop looking into her eyes. They held something, something I'd been longing for, someone I'd only seen in my dreams, sometimes nightmares. Like...my father.

Chiron, too, stood stunned, until at last he sauntered over. "Is everyone all right?" he asked calmly, picking up my plate.

"Y-yeah," we muttered, turning away.

"I, uh, I think I'm gonna go to bed."

"Yeah," agreed the girl. "Me, too."

* * *

My breathing was shallow, and I stumbled into my cabin, out of breath and out of logical thoughts.

Dad. I needed Dad.

Without second thought I tossed a coin into the fountain, and muttered, "Percy Jackson."

A small _cha-ching _sounded, and in a moment the light shimmered, revealing my father, a Hilton Inn's television screen flickering in front of him.

And my father in nothing but boxers.

I let out a small cry and covered my eyes. He jumped, spraying blue jellybeans and porkrinds everywhere, pulling the covers over his head. "Gimme a second!"

I waited patiently, not wanting to look, ever. Michael walked in, knuckles rapping the door softly before he took his place next to me.

"You okay, Al?"

No. No, I wasn't. Finally dad gave the all clear, and with near tears in my eyes from the utter confusion I felt I looked to him. "Daddy," I breathed, "_please _never wear only boxers again. _Please._"

He smirked, stuck his tongue out. "Alice likes it."

"Don't mention that. Not right now."

Michael, deciding now was more than perfect to stick his head in, rested his chin on my shoulder and waved. "Hey, Mr. P."

Dad nodded, though his eyes were weary. "You're not alone with him, are you?"

"He just dropped by to say hi." Subject change before he could continue, "Dad, I - I'm not sure I want to stay."

"What's happened?" I sighed. Good. Michael was far from his mind. "Were you hurt? Did someone say something about - "

"No, no," I glanced to Michael and he furrowed his brows at me. "Not that. I just...this thing at the pavillion and - "

He laughed. "It's just first day jitters, Seashell," he promised. A beep sounded on his watch and he whistled. "I've gotta go. I'll call you first thing in the morning, okay?"

My lips shut tightly, but I gave a small smile, nodded. He began to swipe the image when I spoke up, "Hey, um, Dad?"

"Yeah, babe?"

I bit my tongue. "Wear some pants next time."

He rolled his eyes and his finger clawed through the message.

* * *

**In reply to my anon:  
I don't _think _I'm dead, but in this economy you can never know. **

**Good morrow scholars! School's started up, but hopefully I'll have some free time to keep this story going. Sorry it's been so long. **

**Next chapter should be here pretty shortly. **

**Live Long and Peace Out My Vulcan Homies! **

**-Hannah**


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